Farranby's finger pointed to left of where they had been headed. "There. See it?"

Lyara leaned forward in her saddle and followed the direction he was pointing, squinting until she could suddenly make out the fact that there were several unmoving and prominent bulges in the golden prairie grasses. "That's it?" she asked with brows flying.

Her old friend shrugged. "It's a trading station, with only a couple of families settled there," Farranby explained patiently. "They deal with the Vryies and with any Talandri who actually make it to this point – it tends to be a rather subsistence level of living, but when I visited back when, they told me that they enjoyed the solitude. There's also a small well that was dug there a very long time ago, so they stand guard over one of the best places to get fresh, clean water in this entire end of the desert."

"And they'll take care of the ponies there? You're sure?" Jilan trotted up next to the pair and took his turn squinting until he too could make out the low buildings that were so nearly the same color as the vegetation that they blended easily into the landscape.

"We have enough specie that we can make it well worth their time," Farranby nodded. "Besides, they are devoted to a very strict code of ethics in dealing with travelers and traders – their gods don't allow for taking liberties. This life, to them, is a sacred calling."

"How in the name of all the Gods did you find these people?" Lyara gaped, looking around her at the total lack of landmarks by which travelers could be guided to this oasis.

Farranby shot her a quick, sharp look that had its share of humility. "I literally tripped over them, believe me," he told her, settling back into the saddle. "Good thing too – I was out of water and beginning to wonder if I would have been better off just letting Vinzen kill me and be done with it. They nursed me back to health and sent me on my way."

"How far from there to the trees?" Sharin asked.

"About half a day's walk," Farranby answered. "We'll want to rest at the station tonight and get a very early start in the morning – before things start to warm up too much. We'll also want to outfit ourselves in more suitable clothing for the trees – and this will be the best place to find those supplies."

"It will be good to wear shi'ili again," Yiren said quietly, with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Then let's move," Lyara said and nudged Surefoot into movement again. She glanced at Farranby. "I have to admit I was starting to doubt you for a moment. I'm sorry."

He just shook his head. "Don't worry about it. It's understandable – you can see how easy it would be to just walk on past the trading station without even knowing you were passing within spitting distance of at least a little civilization."

"I'm surprised they don't make more of a landmark of themselves," Jilan mused aloud. "They must be more interested in their solitude than in trading."

"Perhaps they are," Farranby allowed. "Their gods seem fairly austere – the only allowable pastime happens after dark and is storytelling. They are very adept at telling stories that are the absolute truth – and yet told in such a manner as the truth seems as if stretched past all relevance." He grinned. "To them, new stories are like precious specie – I'll wager any of you that we'd be able to shelter our ponies on the promise of as many stories as we can relate over the course of an evening."

"That is Vri'ia'ani tradition," Yiren chimed in, bumping her pony in the ribs slightly with her heel as she'd seen the others do and urging her mount to not trail behind so distantly. "We have music, of course – but the art of the well-told tale is beyond price. I have heard tales of this station and others like it – the chan'vrii are honorable and deal fairly."

"Even children hear of such places?" Lyara was surprised.

"Of course," Yiren smiled. "Provided the stories are fit to be told in the presence of children, there are few tales that children have NOT heard several times and several ways by the time we are old enough to walk the trees alone."

"You don't think that these people will know what happened to Herrista, do you?" Sharin asked her mate gently. "Perhaps this isn't the same station you visited – and they were the ones…"

"We'll know that soon enough," Farranby replied, his face growing wary, "but I sincerely doubt it. There is no room in these settlements for sloth from anybody – which means that slavery really has no place to grow as an institution."

The entire population of the settlement, it seemed, emerged from the huts constructed of blocks that looked cut from the living floor of the prairie. A tall man emerged from the group and held up his hand to Lyara as the leader of the group of ponies. "Hail, in the name of all Gods," he boomed in a bass voice that reverberated even in the wide openness.

"Greetings," Lyara responded, slipping from Surefoot and raised her hand – then extended it to the leader. "I am Lyara, Guide from Tandri."

"Well met, Lyara… Farranby? Is that you?" the leader looked past Lyara to another rider, frowned slightly and then grinned broadly. "By the Gods, it IS you!"

"Hello, Shen," Farranby grinned back, slipping from his mount and stepping forward eagerly to grasp the hand of the man who had almost literally saved his life years ago. "It has been a long time."

"I thought when you never returned from the trees that we'd never again have a chance to share stories in the night. Thank all the Makers that your fate was otherwise." Shen pumped Farranby's hand up and down so vigorously that even Lyara's lips twisted in a smile watching her friend strive to keep his balance. "So, who are your comrades?"

Farranby quickly made the introductions as his friends all slid from their saddles, grateful to be standing on solid ground again. "And this is Yiren," Farranby concluded, calling forth the Vryies woman at the very last.

Shen's brows climbed toward the thick patch of blonde thatch that covered his head. "You travel in very mixed company this time, my friend," he commented thoughtfully. "It isn't often we see Talandri aristocracy, Kauwlut and Vryies in the same party. So… What brings you to Caranth this time?"

"Two things," Farranby replied. "First, we are escorting Yiren back to her home. She was taken years ago and earned her freedom price and wishes to return to her people."

Shen gestured behind him, and a slight woman with hair the color of prairie dust came forward. "Come," she said softly to Yiren, taking her very gently by the hand. "I have some shi'ili that should fit you that was traded just the other day."

"We'll all need to be clothed a little more appropriately for travel in the trees," Farranby told his friend. "You see, the second reason we're traveling to the trees is to see if we can find any signs of my daughter, who stories tell was sold or came into the trees when the slaver who had her died."

"I can see that you'll have lots of new tales to tell us tonight after our evening meal," Shen put a heavy but friendly hand on Farranby's shoulder. "We should show you to where you'll stay the night…"

"Farranby – the ponies," Sharin mentioned in a soft voice.

"Yes." Farranby paused as he started to walk with Shen toward the low buildings. "We're going to be wanting to have our ponies cared for pending our return. Can you handle five spirited animals?"

"Gar," Shen called, and a strapping and strong-looking young lad stepped forward. "Take the ponies to the corral and give them plenty of water and grass. Bring the saddle packs into the commons, where their owners can collect them later." The young man nodded and took charge of Farranby's mount's reins as well as the line that had been used to guide Yiren's pony.

"I'll help get the ponies settled," Lyara remarked, claiming Shadow's reins from Sharin.

"I'll help too," Jilan stated, walking Fleetwind behind the group.

Sharin hurried to where she could slip her hand into Farranby's.

Shen noticed the movement, and then looked down at the connection between the young woman and his old acquaintance. "Yes, I'd say you have a healthy set of new stories to be telling us tonight," the trader commented knowingly.

When Lyara and Jilan followed Gar to the low building known as the commons, the first thing that they saw was Sharin bending over the cooking fires with the woman who had taken charge of Yiren. From the looks of the animated discussion, Lyara guessed that two talented cooks were comparing notes.

Then, in a corner of the room, Yiren stood – and Lyara gaped. The young Vryies woman was no longer garbed in the modest gown that had brushed gently against her heels as she walked, but in a very short and revealing garment that clung closely to every curve of her young body with an almost translucent weave. Her flame-colored hair had been gathered and braided – woven into plaited circlet that controlled the length and curls without need for tie. "Mistress," Yiren bowed gently with her arms folded over her chest in what was her characteristic stance.

"You look different!" Jilan remarked with a startled smile, turning the smile on Lyara at the very thought of his dark-haired lover similarly garbed.

"I can move again!" Yiren spread her arms and stretched. "I always felt as if the heavy cloth tied me down to the ground as tightly as any zumi vine would have."

Lyara caught herself bristling at the frank and appreciative way in which Jilan was looking at the young woman. "You look as if you barely have anything on at all," she commented dryly.

"This is far more suitable for traveling in the trees, Mistress," Yiren answered confidently. "Even here, can't you feel the heat beginning to build? Once we're in the trees, it will be warmer yet – and even more damp. Shi'ili doesn't fall apart or grow tattered with heat and moisture."

"Yes, but don't you feel as if you are practically naked?" Lyara countered with amazement. "I mean – no skirt, no trousers; just…" She pointed at the abbreviated garment that wrapped tightly about Yiren's breasts without really compressing or controlling them – and the way the short breechcloth barely brushed at the middle of her thighs. "No pockets?"

Yiren chuckled merrily. "Trust me, Mistress – once you become accustomed to wearing shi'ili, Talandri garments will see almost suffocating."

"Come with me," the dusty-haired woman beckoned to Lyara with a smile after straightening from tending the meal. "You too," she told Sharin. "Let's see what we can find for you."

Lyara and Sharin traded glances that spoke eloquently of how they both felt about Yiren's being practically undressed in front of them, then each sighed and followed the woman past a hanging room divider made of the same, light-weight material.

"You know, we'll be wearing shi'ili too by the time the morning comes," Farranby told Jilan as the younger man walked slowly over to join his friend. "And less of it than the girls wear at that."

Jilan blanched. "Just how much less of it?" he swallowed hard.

"Enough that Lyara will be just as admiring of your figure as you were of Yiren's just now," Farranby chuckled at him, then chuckled louder at the groan his answer evoked.

Lyara stared at the way Fana, Shen's wife, was closing the bodice of Sharin's shi'ili garment. Shi'ili, it seemed, was a substance that caught on itself without any need for lacing or tie – and draped and stretched easily into shape with just gentle tugs. The strength of the fabric, however, was best seen when tugged hard or pulled against – then fibers that seemed to practically fall apart clung tightly to one another.

Sharin had shed her trousers already, and Fana tied the slender shi'ili coil around her waist and helped her tuck and drape the breechcloth properly. "This is strange!" the younger woman stated uncomfortably when Fana backed away and declared her finished. "It feels as if I have nothing on."

"Farranby will probably enjoy the view," Lyara commented with a sideways chuckle until it occurred to her that it was her turn to disrobe.

"So will every other man in the area," Sharin remarked sourly. "I'm glad my uncle isn't here to see this – he'd be wondering why I never bothered to earn him any money by bedding the customers…"

"When you're in the trees, nobody will be noticing," Fana told Lyara as she finished taking away the strapping that had bound her breasts tightly. "All will be wearing the same thing. And, considering the way your Talandri clothes, even the leathers, would catch and possibly rip on the thorns that can be found in the trees, you'll find that shi'ili wears much better than you might think."

Lyara put her arms through the holes of the shapeless garment and then stared as just a tug or two from Fana had the bodice stretched in the proper places and then, with a gentle slip of the palm of the hand, the seam closed firmly. Over the top of the bodice piece, the leather pouch that held Topiara dangled in full view. Then she too was shedding her trousers and letting Fana tie the thin coil around her waist and settle the soft breechcloth at her hips.

"I was right," she stated as she moved hesitantly in her new garments. "It feels as if I'm not wearing anything at all."

"You have to admit, it's cooler," Sharin nodded. She raised her hands to her hair. "I'll have to see if Yiren will braid my hair like hers."

Lyara ran her hand across her own curls which had only just started to grow out since being cut off to make her look more like a young man. "I have some time before I need to do that," she almost bragged. "I've been thinking that I really don't mind not having long hair anyway." She pawed through the pockets of her leather trousers and pulled out the fetish from the Wolf-Faced One that she hadn't worn for weeks and then laced it into her curls.

"Oh, now that looks interesting," Fana exclaimed with clasped hands. "Is there a story that goes with that?"

"I… suppose…" Lyara allowed, not having thought about such a thing before. "Don't your people wear symbols of your Gods?"

Fana shook her head. "Come now – let's see if Shen and Gar were able to get your men dressed."

Lyara had to admit, as she walked across the room toward the fabric room divider, that she had much more freedom of movement with her new garb. The belt that held her short sword to her waist buckled easily over the top of the breechcloth, and Sharin mimicked her and added her own belt with her dagger in its little sheath.

Farranby looked very comfortable in his breechcloth and vest. He'd pulled the pouch that had held the darts and fibers that made his blowgun so deadly from amid the rest of his belongings and draped it over one shoulder in what must have been a very natural way of carrying such things. His gaze slid appreciatively over Lyara and came to rest on Sharin with an expression of almost jealous possessiveness.

Jilan looked handsome indeed, Lyara decided immediately. The translucent breechcloth showed off his muscular legs well – just as the short vest and dangling pouch in which resided Rodayn accented his broad chest. Like Farranby, Jilan had retrieved his weapon of choice from his pack. Lyara had no doubt that when they left in the morning, the strap for the quiver would be over one shoulder while the bow itself would be over the other. Jilan's dagger now hung from the thin shi'ili coil at his hips in a way that looked far more comfortable than did Sharin's belt and sheath. And like Farranby, his gaze came to rest on her and warmed to an immediate expression of possessiveness and appreciation.

"You all look nearly Vri'ia'ani," Yiren chirped with a delighted laugh. "Surely my people will not be able to miss the fact that you perform sha'adrah. You dress as we do, speak Vri'ia'ani, and come with peaceful and honorable intentions."

"We have specie to pay for all of your help and supplies – and to reimburse you for everything needed to care for our ponies," Lyara stated quietly, trying not to notice how even Shen's eyes rested on her a little longer and a little more warmly than she was used to.

"We will settle with you when you return," Gar told her with a shake of his head. "Until then, we will not know the full accounting of feed and care for your ponies, will we?"

"Call the others, my son," Shen told Gar. "We shall have a goodly meal, and then we shall share stories together to make the evening speed by."

"…and we decided that he was better off staying with the Kauwlut. So, when there was a break in the weather, we left the camp."

"Oh!" The inhabitants of Carnath all exclaimed in surprise, and then Gar asked Jilan, "And tell us what your uncle's reaction was when you told him what you'd found."

Jilan shook his head. "I never did speak to my uncle about it – you see, I wasn't supposed to have done anything to try to retrieve him in the first place. My father, however, was less than understanding. As far as he was concerned, I had compounded my mistake by having failed to bring the boy back after having gone against his expressed wishes in the first place. He found me taking care of Lyara there, after she'd been injured in a scuffle with some thieves in an inn some distance from Tandri, and after an argument, he disowned me. He even tried to lock me away from my belongings before I could come and collect them – but some of our servants gave an assist when I came home to collect what was mine."

"So, young aristocrat, you have no Hall to call home any longer?" Shen asked pointedly.

Jilan's face glowed in the firelight. "I'm discovering that not having a Hall isn't such a bad thing," he answered honestly. "Besides," he clasped Lyara's hand and pulled it to his thigh possessively, "where Lyara goes, I go. We've had our share of adventures since that day."

"What happened to the thieves that attacked Lyara?" came a female voice from the back of the room.

"They were associated with my brother, who was an infamous bandit in that part of the country" Farranby replied. "And when another group associated with him attacked some friends right in the middle of Tandri itself, Lyara decided to go after him. That's when she called upon my help, and I agreed to go with her. Along the way, we found Sharin – whose family had also been killed by the same group of bandits – and the four of us made certain that no others would ever again be assaulted by any of those men again. But…" he shifted on his seat, "in the process, we discovered that Vinzen hadn't had my daughter killed after all, but had given her to a slaver – who had brought her south, toward the trees. As soon as we had called in the King's Men, and the bandit stronghold was being dismantled, we left for Tandri to get as much information as we could about slavers here in the south and the Vryies people as we could. The one man who could tell us anything was in Alinber – and that's where we came upon Yiren…"

"What about you, Yiren?" Fana nudged the young woman sitting next to her. "What is your story? How did you come to be in Alinber?"

"When I had seen twelve seasons of winds and rains, I was sent with a group of young people to the edge of the trees to collect blooms of yi'isharas to decorate for one of our feastdays. While we were on the ground, a group of men came upon us – and we were taken captive." Yiren's musically accented Talandri had a flat tone that spoke eloquently of the pain she felt remembering these events. "I have been sold three times since then – first to an innkeeper who made me keep the floors and dishes clean, next to an old woman in Alinber who wanted a personal servant strong enough to take care of all the chores. She was an actress who was very famous and popular as a teacher in one of the bigger theaters. When she died, I was sold again to a man named Corwin – who was an associate of the slaver who had caught me in the first place. I had been with him for a number of years, keeping his household secure, when Lyara and her friends showed up at Corwin's door. By then, I had already earned my freedom price and given it to my master, who bargained with me to wait until he could arrange safe escort back to the trees before leaving his service."

"How far from here is your home?" Gar wanted to know.

"Two tendays' travel once we get into the trees," she replied.

"And now we should allow our guests to retire and rest," Shen announced, rising. "We have had a wealth of new stories this night – and we are grateful."

"I am tired," Lyara whispered to Jilan sitting next to her.

He put his arm around her and drew her with him as he rose. Farranby had clasped Sharin the same way, and they followed Jilan and Lyara from the large common building and very soon through the low doorway of the sod hut that was the guest accommodations. As if by mutual agreement, the couples each took a larger bed in one of the corners, while Yiren was contented with a small bed toward the front of the one room building.

The morning would come quickly enough. Lyara lay enfolded in Jilan's arms, determined to enjoy the feel of a comfortable Talandri bed for the last time in a long while. In the back of her mind, Topiara kept giving her flashes – vistas that seemed to be found quite high in the air, probably from the perspective of a tree branch somewhere, and one particular vista of a mountain viewed, it seemed, over the top of the forest itself. "Fire and ice" – the phrase echoed as if shouted down a rocky canyon.